Barrett Poems | Examples


How Do I Love Me

Galaxy, heart
erase, gaze
tender, cold

How do I love thee --
I cannot count the ways,
for there are none.

Not because the sun doesn't
grace thy face with its brilliance,
leaving the rays reflected back in a trance
and even the shadows dancing
as they trace thy golden reflection,
guiding thoughts through galaxies 
tenderly gloved within thy gallant gaze
no imagination can erase.

Nor because the wind breathes traces
of divine intelligence
as thy tender breath reaches my wearied face.

No

Not because there is nothing to love,
but because love had left my ice-cold presence
long before we met,
and my heart was left alone
with no shadows of my own to dance
as they traced reflections of light, 
for there was no light to trace.

Premium Member A Question For Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, and I quote:
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways."
And then she proceeded to list as many as she could in fourteen lines,
Telling her husband, Robert, and us, in the process,
Just how deeply and fervently she loved him.
But I would pose this query to Mrs. B., "Liz, dearie,
Does being able to list all the reasons you love a person
Enable you to love that person more, or better, or differently?"
In my view, I see no need for yard-long lists of words
Declaring love steadfast and true.
No need for lists, or sonnets, even,
When just three simple words will do.
Form: Verse


Premium Member Clerihew Barrett Browning

To Elizbeth Barrett Browning
invalidity from riding did bring
Putting aside this tragic hurt
she elope to marry her Robert
Form: Clerihew

Premium Member Syd Barrett

Syd has finally come home to nest,
somewhere on the dark side of the moon.
Lovingly tending to his space rock garden.
Sometimes he strums an ancient guitar
and whispers sweetly to pinkish stars.
Syd is alone but never lonely or lost
and his mind didn't snap like they say it did..
He just crawled out of a plastic poison pond
fed by a spring of plastic human beings.

He climbed up a ladder to the dark side of the moon
where there's no fabrication...or temptations of flesh.
Only a peaceful nothingness and a ladle of stars 
sprinkling shine on his space rock garden. 
Which he lovingly tends to
in the cool-blue dappled dark side of the moon.

Barrett and Browning Runaway Lovers

RUNAWAY LOVERS

Sat Ba Barret restless in her room
Drinking death in dark and gloom
Tragedy seemed her last name
Despite the books that were her fame
Letters reached her by the score
But one kissed paper touched her core
Robert Browning made her wild
Exuberance flared—she was a child
A woman forty –heart on fire
Now she had but one desire
A partner for her life she sought
Her father raged—her brothers fought
And so she, in the dead of night
Began a journey—love’s mad flight
They wed with maid and cousin there
And off they sailed like on a dare
Tossed her frail and lifelong curse
Dared the gods to do their worst
She won the man and mated prize 
Found her reflection in his eyes
First night was a burst of tears
Maid was sent to soothe her fears
Downstairs help was all a twitter
Certain Ba was dry and bitter
Old maid and a cripple lass
With intellect none could surpass
Now she’s wed and this first night
What would happen—tup or fight?
Footmen bet on Browning luck—
Old maids were like sitting ducks
But when they saw dawn faces glow
Even shallow hearts did throw
A prayer that heaven smile on them
Such naked love sang out ‘Amen’.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Please Forgive Me

How do I hate thee?  Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breath and height
my plunger can reach, when reaching out of sight.
to the ends of a stopped-up toilet bowl.
I hate thee to the level of everyday’s.
most disgusting need, by sun and candle-light.
I hate thee freely, as no other men would want thee.
I hate thee purely, as thy years have taken their toll.
I hate thee because thy brain appears too loose.
Good grief, thou art a woman no man would choose.
I hate thee as much as crap from a goose.
With coke up thy nose, and smell of whiskey on thy breath,
it appears since thy birth, thou were destined to lose.
I shall but hate thee even after thy death.

Sonnet 43 (How do I love Thee, let me count the ways)
By Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Syd Barrett Tribute Poem

Thoughtlessness 
of an fanciful mind
camouflaged to a layman's eye

a vision with an 
uptopian trance
mimicked by 
the madcap laughs

Shine on, 
Crazy Diamond

Barrett

laughter came so easy
upon that christmas day
simple prayers answered
as you'd come to find your way

i'd held you as a child
and taught you the word ' no'
to read between the lines 
when there's nowhere else to go

from running in the park
to just sitting on the stoop
it seemed that time raced on 
til it caught you in a loop

did you find the answer
in the music that you wrote
a drum beat for a melody
in a time that's now remote

can the world we're in now
ever know what has been lost
sun has set on christmas day
without you, at such a cost

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